This isn't easy to say, but I'm falling into that dark hole that is my ED, and I'm falling fast. On Tuesday I met with my therapist and she asked how I was eating. I told her I was cutting back on carbs and fat because I was eating so badly since I got out of treatment that I want to eat healthier. She looked right at me and said "So you're restricting again in an effort to be healthy?" We both knew what a huge contradiction that was and what my real reasoning is.
Last night something big happened and as a result I am now scrambling once again to find somewhere to live. While I understand why I have to leave, it is a HUGE trigger for me. I have been having problems with feeling rejected lately, and because of that the thoughts that I'm not good/perfect/thin enough have returned in full force, and so I don't deserve to have friends, I don't deserve to have nice people in my life and I don't deserve to have anything good in my life. I cried for three hours last night until I finally passed out. The person involved doesn't realize he's doing it so I'm trying very hard not to show the effect he is having on me, as usual I'm acting like everything is fine. I called my therapist and said "somethings happened" and she squeezed me in for a second session this afternoon.
But I'm not fine, I'm not even ok. I am in a downward spiral and I had forgotten how easy it is to fall back into the hole, and how fast you fall. Last night after being asked "Don't you need to eat?" (for the record, this is one of the things you should never say to a person with an ED, there's a whole list of things you shouldn't say according to specialists, and this is a biggie) and so I even though I took this a challenge NOT to eat, I made myself a bowl of cereal, took it into my room, and choked it down. This morning I woke up and decided that I don't deserve to eat because what happened is partly my fault, so I'm a bad person and I need to punish myself. When I get to this point I stop eating altogether and live off of fluids only, which was what landed me in treatment.
I had a 20 ounce bottle of water in my room and I downed the whole thing so quickly it almost came right back up (breakfast). Then I had to go to Starbucks to meet with someone about renting a room from them. I got there first and ordered a large Passion tea/lemonade (lunch), then decided that maybe I should try to eat something (I am trying). I asked for a mini doughnut and this is what the person behind the counter said laughingly, "A single mini doughnut, that's how you stay so thin! That's the secret, just eat one mini doughnut. Good for you!" Wow, crash and burn into a fiery inferno with no survivors. I took it as a challenge (of course) and wasn't going to eat it but then the person I was meeting with came in and I didn't want them asking me about it so I ate it, and now I hate myself even more.
I am relapsing, I think everyone would agree to that. Out of treatment two and a half weeks and I'm back in the hole. While I feel safe there, I feel extreme anger. I am trying to fight it, but the voice in my head is getting louder and louder. I don't want to be in the hole, but I want to feel small and safe. To be honest, I think I've been heading towards this since leaving treatment, like the gun was cocked and loaded but I needed something to pull the trigger, and this is it. I know I'm disappointing a lot of people, they had high expectations of me, since I went into treatment I should be all better shouldn't I? Shouldn't it be easier for me to prevent this since I just got out and have a constant reminder tattooed on my wrist? No, I'm not, and no, it isn't.
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